Mine
by TStabler
Summary: One word One-shot. The morning after a relationship changes is the hardest to survive. It brings out new emotions in people, and certain qualities boil to the surface. Possessiveness, for instance. Once they latch on, they refuse to let go. EO Strong M


**A/N: A one-word oneshot, originally requested to be a songfic, but the song just didn't fit. I made the word work, though, I believe.**

**DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and the characters; TStabler© owns the story you're about to read.**

It's new. The feeling of waking up in his arms, the realization that she hasn't stopped smiling since her eyes opened, the hard pounding of her heart. It's all new. And she likes it. Craves it.

She's cooking, in an actual frying pan on her actual stove, in her dusty kitchen, she is cooking. She's dancing, humming, and still smiling as she works the spatula through the scrambled eggs, and she can feel his dress shirt graze her thighs as she moves to the music from the clock radio. She laughs a bit at the memory of why she's wearing it, and only it.

She woke up, eased out of his tight grip, and the only clothes within reach were his. She grabbed his shirt and pulled it on, buttoning it slowly as she walked out into her kitchen, inhaling his scent with every step.

She can still smell him, his essence soaked into the cotton and in turn soaking into her skin. She stops humming and starts singing, her moves take on a more sensual quality, her head flips, tossing her hair a bit, and she chuckles with a menace behind it. She knows he's watching her.

That's not new. The feeling of his eyes on her, the way she knows when he's staring and when he's watching. She's always been able to tell, only now, instead of making her blush and wish for his touch, it makes her wet and ready for him because she knows when he's done looking, he will be touching.

She laughs when she hears the soft foot falls coming closer, and her hips sway, her thighs rub together just enough to make her aware of how aroused she is. Still is. The night had been amazing, and the low throb between her legs hasn't yet gone away, the slick hasn't yet dried up, and the yearn for more hasn't yet ceased. She's pretty sure it never will.

She falls easily into him as his hands wrap around her waist. She welcomes his lips on her neck, she laughs as he dances with her and sings softly. She lets her eyes close, and for a moment she feels as if this has been their routine, their life, for much longer than just a day.

"You look so fucking sexy," he whispers into her ear, and he feels her shiver at his words. He skims his hands up her legs and under the hem of his dress shirt and he chuckles. "Bad girl," he murmurs, smoothing a palm over her bare ass.

She wiggles against him. "Yeah," she moans, "Maybe I am." She laughs again and says, "At least I had the sense to cover up when I got out of bed, though. You just gonna walk around my apartment naked now?"

"I plan to spend very little of my time with you clothed," he says with a smile. "After work, the only thing I wanna wear is you." He kisses her and moans softly, then he looks around. "You're making breakfast," he notes, reaching over her and grabbing a strip of bacon. He holds it out to her, watches her bite it, and quickly bites the other end, chewing fast and meeting in the middle, kissing her hard.

She chuckles as she pulls away, trying to swallow. "That was very 'Lady and the Tramp' of you."

He smiles. "I can't stop kissing you," he says, lifting her into his arms. He drops her onto the counter and runs his fingers up and down the exposed skin of her thighs. He looks into her eyes, more intently and intensely than he ever has, and he says, "There's a lot of things I can't stop doing when it comes to you."

She raises an eyebrow, then lifts another piece of bacon to his lips. "Can you turn off the…"

"Got it." He bites the bacon, flicks the switch on the stove's burner, and moves the frying pan back, off the heat. "I can't believe you…"

"I only ever cook when I'm happy," she interrupts. "So what does that tell you?"

He smirks, the cocky grin that makes her melt, and he says, "You're happy," he says, tapping her nose lightly and winking at her. He kisses her, and before he knows it, because he can't control it, he's fiddling with the buttons, undressing her, peeling his shirt off of her body.

"What are you doing?" she breathes.

"You know," he says. He chuckles and he says, "I am amazed at how huge this shirt is on you."

"Well," she says with a wide-eyed smile, "I'm amazed at how huge you are, period." And then she gasps, his fingers are caressing her hardened nipples, he's pulling lightly on them and it's sending shockwaves right to her already throbbing core.

"Tell me," he whispers, dropping his head to the crook of her neck. "Tell me you want me."

"God, I want you," she moans, and as the shirt falls to the marble surface, her legs open a bit wider to allow him to get closer to her.

He laughs, then, and he mumbles, "I can tell. You're so fucking wet, baby." He tweaks at her nipples again, lifting his head to watch her expressions change as he toys with her. "And I can see it in your eyes."

"Yeah?" she asks, absently raising her hips to rub against his body, aching for the blessed friction he would cause. "How long?"

"What?" he asks, it comes out as a moan as he feels her wetness on his skin, coating his stiffening length.

"If you could see it in my eyes," she begins, bucking her hips again, "How long have you been able to tell? When did you first notice…"

He stops her words with a kiss, and against her moaning mouth he garbles, "A long time ago." He pulls away from her and his hands grip her thighs. He holds her thighs down and apart and he bites his lip as he rears back. "Could you tell?" he asks, thrusting forward without warning.

Her nails hook into his back hard and fast, her head falls and her mouth opens as she curses loudly. "Jesus, tell what?" she moans, trying to push herself forward and away at the same time, torn between wanting to move and needing to stay still.

"That I wanted you, loved you," he says, easing out and slamming back into her. He moans when he feels her press herself to him, holding him tighter. "Could you?"

She squeezes her eyes shut and moves her head, nodding. Her rapid breathing fills her lungs with the stronger scent of him, now that it's his skin she's breathing in and not just his shirt. She buries her face in his neck and mumbles, "I knew."

He moves faster, deeper, his hands fall from her legs to the edge of the counter at her sides. He nips at her shoulder, then he finds a patch of skin on her neck and sucks, knowingly marking her.

Her nails drag down his back and she moans. "El, please…"

"I want everyone to know…that you're mine," he grunts, his body hitting into hers with force and meaning. He resumes his work of leaving his brand on her skin, proudly staking his claim on her. "Holy shit!" he yells then, a sharp but pleasurable pain ripping through him. It spurs him on, makes him thrust harder.

She whimpers around the bit of flesh in her mouth, her teeth sink further into his neck. The harder he slams into her the harder she bites and the louder she screams, thankful his body is silencing most of the noise.

"Harder," he grunts, and he moves one hand from the counter to the back of her neck and presses her against him. "God, baby, I…" he chokes on the words he wants to say, focusing only on the need to bring her the greatest pleasure she's ever known, fulfilling her sexually and emotionally and making sure she knows he means every action and every word.

The deeper he reaches inside of her the harder she clenches her jaw on him, and as her toes curl, she feels his body rumble against hers and knows whatever is happening is almost over. She whines and suckles on his neck, and she feels his other hand press into her lower back.

"Oh, God, baby," he grunts, his body starting to give out, give in to the burn, succumb to her. "Fuck, Liv, I can't…shit…" and he grunts again.

She's lost, her eyes close and she screams as she clings to him, every scrap of skin is held flush against his, and he slams relentlessly into her over and over again. She remains still as she shakes, trembles, cumming for him.

He curses and cries her name as he stills then, too, shooting off into her and keeping her pressed against him, keeping her from moving, ensuring that she feels it all as much as he does. And then it's quiet.

She's shaking against him, a bit of his neck still in her mouth. It isn't until she tastes the salty, metallic tang, feels the warm wetness on her lips that she realizes she's drawn blood. She backs away and looks up at him, tossing her head to get the hair out of her face. She laughs, but she reaches for the bruise. "I am so sor…"

He smiles and wipes the corners of her mouth with his thumb, stopping her. "Don't," he says. "That was…amazing." And his eyes flicker as he watches her loop her mouth around his thumb and suck gently, and that's when the level of love and trust between them hits him, and almost knocks him over. "Liv?"

She runs her hands lightly down his still-heaving chest and takes a deep breath of her own. "What, El?"

He wraps both arms around her and lifts her off of the counter. He holds her and spins her around, and he chuckles. "Do you have any idea how happy you make me? How happy I am with you?"

She smiles, a grin that reaches her eyes, and she sighs with a tilted head as her feet hit the floor again. Her naked, sweaty, sticky body is still pressed to his as she nods. "As happy as I am," she answers, "When I'm with you."

"Well, then," he says, kissing her and guiding her back toward the bedroom, "We're just gonna have to be together forever, then, because I don't ever want to go back to feeling…"

She stops, her hands press against his chest, and she looks up at him. "Neither do I," she whispers. And with another kiss, a promise is made. They know it will be hard as hell to keep, and may come close to being broken, but never will be. They laugh as they break apart, watching each other gingerly touch their own sore necks. "I guess they'll know," she says with a shrug.

"Know what?" he asks, nudging her through the bedroom door, the cold eggs lying in wait on the stove.

"That I'm yours," she says, sitting on the bed. And she smirks, a cocky grin that rivals his. "And you're mine."

**A/N: Thanks for the word, Nic! Sorry it wasn't the songfic, lol. Good enough?**


End file.
